


A Righteous Man

by Aladayle



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, I Don't Even Know, Obsession, Overly Occupied With Rank Parents, Seriously they're in the chapter titles, Sexual Content, Shameless use of Hellfire lyrics, The reader is changeling/Arcosian/frostdemon, Two Dads
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:46:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5814790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aladayle/pseuds/Aladayle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cooler's never been the emotional type. He prefers his work to anything else and despises the social requirements that his rank bestows on him. Even less does he like the arts...until he sees you veil dancing and so enters an all-consuming obsession that you have no hope of escaping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Gypsy

**Author's Note:**

> My general headcanon on Frieza's race is that they are nearly all hermaphrodites and most of them express as male, hence why the Reader being completely physically female is such a rarity. I also apologize for choosing the Reader's scale and biogem color in this, but I thought it would make certain things easier. Everything else will be entirely up to you to imagine.

### The Gypsy

Three or four times a year your fathers' theatre was visited by the royal family. 

Aside from the PTO, King Cold had an affinity for the arts, and the Crystalline was one of his favorite places to indulge that taste. Your fathers found their social standings rising considerably in the last few years since he began to largely fund the exhibition of newer and better talents on the stage they had spent so much time and effort working on. 

Your fathers, and your six elder siblings, all had some hand or another in running it. Your fathers were an excellent team of well-aging talent and financial skill. Your three eldest siblings (and their spouses) were employed in some form or fashion with maintaining the theater's stores of costumes, makeup, and various other little necessities. Your fourth-eldest, the only of the group to express as female, was a talented soprano when an opera was planned. The fifth and sixth were not gifted in the arts at all, but had jobs pertaining to overall maintenance. 

And then there was you. 

You were born rather late in your fathers' lives, far past the point that they had expected children. Your "twin" hadn't made it, and you, well... 

You were completely female. 

It made you a bit of a curiosity, though you thought nothing of it. As you grew you took an interest in veil dancing, and as you were blessed with a graceful form... 

...well... 

You would find out on your first "Royal" night. 

* * *

*Cooler's POV* 

I positively _despise_ social niceties. Father doesn't like that I am so attached to my work, but really, I haven't got many other hobbies because I need no others. He says I need to get out more. I say he needs to be satisfied that at least one of his sons takes his job seriously. _My_ planetary record is virtually spotless. My brother's? Ha! He never met an explosion he didn't like. 

Father insists upon my going to this ridiculous theater and actually enjoying myself. How many times must I tell him that I don't _need_ to "go out" to enjoy myself? My satisfaction is in the clearing and collection, the maintaining, of what is mine. Expanding as far as I can with as little collateral damage as possible. 

I do not need to watch people sing or dance. If he wants someone to enjoy such performances with him, he should take one of his plethora of mistresses, NOT ME. I have many, many more important things to do. 

* * *

You'd performed before, of course. Many times, in fact. 

It's just...you hadn't performed with such an audience before. 

"(Y/n), really," said your sister, "You've got nothing to worry about. You're the last act, you've got plenty of time to...well, worry, I guess. Sorry!" 

"I know, it's not quite as big as the song you're going to do. But...but still! The KING is going to be here!" 

"As long as you don't completely screw up you should be fine. Which set of veils are you using, anyway? I haven't had a chance to see you practice your act yet." 

"Some of the fan veils," you said, "The ones that start really dark, and then they're red and then they go brighter into yellow. Welcoming the sun back, and all." 

"Oh, the sunbirth dance? That should be impressive enough." 

"Look, I'm already worried, I don't need extra help!" you laughed, and nervously finished touching up your makeup. Your nearly-black scales looked alright, your red biogems were polished nicely, and the dark maroon gown was beautiful, but...still... 

(Sister's name) laughed along with you. "You're going to do just fine, (y/n). You've practiced more than is really necessary. There's no way you're going to fail." She looked up when a stagehand motioned from the doorway. "Well, that's my cue. Just get ready, little sister. You'll do fine." 

She left, and you looked nervous into the mirror again. 

"You can do this, (y/n)," you told yourself. "It's just another audience." 

You stepped away and practiced briefly, going over every movement as best you could, until finally-- 

"(Y/n)?" A stagehand appeared. 

"It's time, isn't it?" 

"Yep. Knock 'em dead, break a leg...all that good stuff." 

* * *

The dance went off without a hitch. You lost yourself in the movements of the veils, and moved as though they were extensions of your body. Every turn brought to mind the idea of a dark sun twisting in joy as it passed the horizon and began to give light. It was a story that had been told for ages in changeling history, when a sun previously thought nearly dead had coming roaring back into purpose. 

The applause that followed had you feeling on top of the world, and you bowed briefly to the King who was in a balcony seat. You looked to his left, and-- 

* * *

*Cooler's POV* 

She was less like a dancer and more like a moving work of art. 

_Such beauty and grace_ , I found myself thinking. 

Then she looked up, and our eyes met. 

... 

I knew it was a bad idea to come to this show.


	2. Like Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You don't even know what you did yet, but your family certainly doesn't mind the extra attention you're getting.

### Like Fire

*Cooler's POV* 

Father noticed, and because he seems to delight in torturing me, insisted on dragging me along when he went to make his congratulations to the girl's parents on an overall good show...or however he put it. 

I don't like this feeling. 

I want it gone. 

* * *

*Your POV* 

You'd changed back into your normal clothes when one of your fathers came into the dressing room. 

"Wonderful news, (y/n)," he said, "The King wanted to make his congratulations to us for a stunning performance tonight. Not just you, the entire thing, but still, I think it would be good if you came along with us to meet him." 

And the meeting had gone...pretty well, despite how nervous you were. You'd introduced yourself to King Cold, and to Lord Cooler--and been only a little surprised at how disinclined he was to speak. Perhaps he was simply unhappy at being talked over all the time? 

You'd spoken to him once. 

"My Lord," you said, using the most polite tone you could manage, "I hope the performance was as pleasing to you as it was to his highness." 

"Of course," Cooler replied quickly, glancing over you briefly before going silent again. 

The King had started another line of conversation with one of your fathers after that, and thankfully was animated enough that Cooler was free of having to say more. 

You got home late, but your fathers were up much later excitedly going over the events of the evening. 

Honestly, you couldn't particularly care less about getting attention from one quarter or another, royal or otherwise, but society imposed the need to be polite in spite of how many other things one wanted to do, and polite you would be. 

* * *

*Cooler's POV* 

It's been four months, and I've attended every one of her performances since then. I've tried to stay away, I truly have, but... 

...but... 

Gods, what is the matter with me? Why can I still see her dancing? Why do I still remember her eyes meeting mine? 

Why am I burning so? 

She dances again tonight, and I will be, as I have since that first night, watching her. 

* * *

*Your POV* 

"Good news, (y/n)," your sister said, smiling and helping you get your dress on, "Your admirer is back." 

"Oh, stop it," you replied, pulling just a bit at the lengthy sleeves, "Just because Lord Cooler's taken an interest in the arts of late does not mean that he has come to admire me." 

"If he were attending shows only when he was accompanied by his father, I might believe what you're saying. But that's just it...he hasn't been to any that you aren't in." 

"I've only been in seven shows. That's hardly enough to assume--" 

"Even his highness is not here that often, and he's our biggest supporter! Seven times, (y/n)!" 

"Look..." You sighed, and shook your head. "Don't make such a big deal out of it." 

"You should hear our fathers talking about it," she replied, "There we go, it's on just right. Now...let's see what time...fifteen minutes to showtime." 

"They're talking about it?" As if this weren't a delicate enough issue...now your fathers were gossiping over it? Why did someone attending a simple performance have to be taken in so deranged a way? Could a man not enjoy the arts? 

"Oh, yes, they are. But really, pay it no mind if you hear them talking of it." 

You sighed. "Alright." 

"And they have added that you could try looking at Lord Cooler a few times as you dance. His being here drums up a lot more business for the theater, and..." 

"And the more he's here, the better off we all are. I understand. Ugh, but still, they could not be more obsessed with this place, could they? They get good enough business as it is!" 

"Enough is never enough with our parents," she said, laughing, "You should know this by now!" 

* * *

You'd done as she'd told you, of course, not knowing that every turn, every glance, was only stoking the fire _more_. And once it was over you'd returned to the dressing room, glad that your turn on the stage was over for the night. 

There was just...something in the air you weren't sure about. 

It was hard to put a finger on, but you knew for sure that you weren't exactly comfortable with the way that he'd been watching you. Every time you did look up you found that he was already looking back--and at first you simply convinced yourself that he was just enjoying the dance. But there was that nagging suspicion that your sister had raised and that you had so casually brushed aside. What if she was right? 

_It's not as if it would go anywhere._

It was an odd thought to have, but it happened anyway. Your fathers had been social climbing to the best of their ability since they'd first caught the King's eyes with the theater, but the fact remained that you weren't at that level of society--not that you wanted to be, either. It all seemed so very tedious, so dull and set in stone as to demands, and you were too busy having fun being the young age that you were without having to behave _perfectly_ all the time. 

And then you heard a knock at the door. You were sure that your sister had gone home and as you went to see who it was, wondered if she'd left something behind _yet again_. 

* * *

*Cooler's POV* 

Perhaps if I speak to her, the issue will be fixed. 

Undoubtedly she is not as elegant in person as she is on stage. All I have to do is wait for her to speak out of turn, to show that she is not as perfect as my mind would have me believe, and all will be well. 

I will be myself again.


	3. Licentious Crowd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He can't help himself, and despite giving you every chance not to be as much as he thinks you are, you continue to not disappoint him...and in a moment of weakness you only stoke the fire more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemon in this chapter.

### Licentious Crowd

Your sister had left earlier, owing to having a dinner date with a fellow singer. That left you alone in the dressing room. Not that you minded, of course, you always hated taking off your makeup in front of other people. Once it was off you gave yourself a spritz or two from your perfume bottle to get the scent of powder out of your nose--or at least make it more tolerable. 

You'd just changed into your normal dress and were about to head for the door when you heard someone knocking at it. 

Inwardly, you laughed. Your sister had probably forgotten something she needed _urgently_ , right away...and yet somehow never managed to grab when she left the first time. 

"Listen, sis, you--" you opened the door and were suddenly stunned into silence. 

It was Lord Cooler. 

* * *

*COOLER'S POV* 

I opened the door and I was immediately aware of the smell of lavender, and I felt compelled to take a deep breath. 

This was a bad idea. 

This was a very bad idea. 

* * *

"My Lord," you said, bowing briefly, "I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you of all people." 

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" 

"No," you said, smiling up at him briefly and trying not to panic, "Of course not. Now tell me, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?" 

"I simply...want to know when you will be performing next. I've noticed that you have been doing so a bit infrequently of late, and you appear not to have a fixed schedule." 

"Of course. My sister is the singer, you see, and song pulls in more crowds than dancing. However, I'm..." you paused here, trying to think of how to word it, "I'm not the kind of person to be very upset by that. I dance for the joy of it, not to further the theater, no matter what my fathers might tell you of me." 

Cooler laughed. "You would be mortified if you knew what they were saying." 

"Then it would be best not to tell me. I would prefer not to get upset in front of a guest." 

He stepped past you, into the room, and there was a silent hitch in your throat. What did he mean by coming into the room unbidden like that? No. No, there was nothing wrong here. Nothing had happened, he was likely trying to avoid being seen in the hallway by anyone who might pass by, that was all. 

"I've never been interested in the arts," he said suddenly, "I'm sure you've heard me spoken of as the dull son, the one who never takes a break." 

"I've heard nasty rumors like that before, but I never saw you as dull or as a workaholic," you said, "Dedicated, perhaps." 

"Your act, though, you...you dance with such feeling. You tell me you dance for the joy of it, and...and it shows." 

"Thank you," you said, bowing briefly. 

He seemed to pause, before turning to look directly at you. "Are you averse to watching rather than dancing?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"I am asking," he said, "Whether you would not want to attend tomorrow's opera premiere, _The Journey of Frost_ , with me?" 

"With you? Of course." Not that you would say no. Going out would be nice, although going out with one of the royal family? You could already hear the nonsensical chattering and congratulations from your fathers. 

"Then I will see you here at seven, when it begins. In the balcony seat, of course." 

He was out the door somewhat quickly, and you watched him go in wonder. You'd been laughing at your sister, and now her teasings had, beyond your wildest imagination, become real! Lord Cooler had actually asked you out! 

* * *

*COOLER'S POV* 

She was very sweet, very polite, and nothing about her provoked me. 

Perhaps it was a mistake to ask her to accompany me to anything, but I thought, surely another meeting might result in her showing some flaw or the other. Something I can dislike her for. 

I want my mind back. 

But that cloud of lavender seems to stick to me, taunting me. 

* * *

"He what?!" 

Your sister, and your fathers, were watching you with a mix of amazement and joy. 

"Asked me to accompany him to _The Journey of Frost_ tomorrow," you said, "I happened to pass him on my way out." 

"I knew I was right!" your sister said, "I knew it!" 

"Forget being right, do you know what this is going to do for your social standing, (y/n)?" 

"Gelid, stop," your first father said, "We shouldn't get too overexcited. This is good news, certainly, but..." 

"Hiemal, how can we not be excited over this? A prince! She has captured the attention of one of the princes! Think of what an establishment that would be for her." 

"He's only asked me out. Nothing might come of it. And you're being a bit forward, aren't you?" you said quickly, "No one's even in love." 

"Love!" Gelid said, laughing suddenly, "Love is what we read about in fairytales. When it comes to people in our positions in life, we must endeavor for no more than tolerance. If you can tolerate the one you marry, I say that's asking enough." 

"Love would be nice, though," your sister said as she left the room. 

"Nice, certainly, but you can wait your entire life for love and not find it," Hiemal added, "(Y/n), honestly, if he seems to want more, if he shows any interest in you beyond simply going out, then you should encourage it." 

"That's if he even does," you said quickly, "He likely won't." 

"Not with that attitude..." 

"Look," Gelid said, "Just don't be in a hurry not to keep his attention, alright?" 

"Alright. I can promise not to be in a hurry." 

* * *

You showed up the next night right on time, and noticed a slight smile on Cooler's face when you stepped past the curtain. 

"Here, take a seat," he said, gesturing to the spot next to him. 

You did so, and remained very quiet for a few seconds. Your dads' admonishing you for being not so inclined to take quick advantage of the situation, their already planning so far ahead, had you a bit rattled. It had you feeling like a pawn. 

"Something wrong?" he asked. 

"You could say that," you replied, sighing, "My family is already making a fuss over this. I'm afraid you may be the target of a lot of speculation. Please, let me apologize for that." 

"Me, the subject of gossip. Who would have ever thought?" he laughed at that. "It wouldn't be the first time, though I hate to think of what might be said. And to have your own family doing it..." He shook his head. 

The opera began, and he watched it mostly in silence, though now and then he'd turn to speak to you. Once or twice a minion entered to see if anything was wanted, and the second time Cooler turned to ask if you wanted anything. 

"No," you said, "I'm fine, really." 

"We have a few wines you may be interested in trying," the minion said quickly. 

"I've never had wine before," you replied, "I wouldn't know what to get anyway." 

"I'll order for you then," Cooler said, and he did just that, nodding to the minion when he left and returned with two glasses. 

"I will say only this, sip it. Don't drink it too quickly." 

You took a sip from the glass. 

"It's...it's very rich," you said, and laughed nervously. "I'm afraid I am a very poor judge, though." 

The rest of the evening passed like that. You were polite, you were accommodating...and you actually had a good time. 

* * *

A week later, your fathers were still talking about it, and as a result you were a bit surlier than usual--though thankfully, you were set to dance again so you could at least stop thinking about it when you were practicing. The night of the show, however... 

"He's here," Gelid said, walking into your dressing room with the veil you would be using for the dance that night, "Lord Cooler is here again. Ah, how lucky you are, (y/n)!" 

"I guess...I guess he's nice enough," you said quietly, glancing over the shimmering black gown you were wearing and back at the veil. 

"Do try to find him agreeable, alright? Or do you already have someone in mind? Whoever they are, Lord Cooler is a far better catch." 

"He's a man, not a fish, father,"  you said. 

He scoffed slightly and left, and you looked back to the mirror. This was getting ridiculous. 

* * *

After the show you were a bit slower than usual about getting your makeup off. Thankfully, your fathers were busy soaking up the praise for yet another wonderful night of performances, and were therefore not going to be bothering you. With any luck they would have been asked to a late dinner and wouldn't get home until quite late. 

You were about to change out of the gown you'd worn for your dance when there was a knock at the door. 

It was Lord Cooler again. 

"We have to stop meeting like this," you said jokingly, stepping aside to let him in. 

"I agree," he replied, walking in and looking back at you. "(Y/n)..." 

"Yes?" You closed the door, and he took a few steps closer, placing a hand on one side of your face. You found yourself blushing brightly, and on noting it he smiled. 

"I have tried and tried," he said, "And all of my efforts have been in vain." 

"E-efforts?" 

"From the moment I first saw you, I was entranced. I was...overwhelmed. You're beautiful. You're...perfect, and I..." 

Your blush deepened when he leaned closer. "My lord, I..." 

He kissed you, but only briefly. "...and I never want to let you go." 

You were nothing short of stunned, but thankfully he seemed not to be angry; rather, he was more pleased. 

"Then you are not acting under their direction?" 

"No. No. They...they wanted me to...t-to...get you, but...but...it's not that I don't find you, you know, but..." 

"But what?" 

"...I didn't want to lead you on, or anything. I don't know how I feel yet." 

"I am sure you can be persuaded." 

He kissed you again, and your eyes closed. It deepened a few seconds later, and you pulled back. "Please, I don't..." 

"You will," he said. His other hand was tracing up your hip, and with a sudden shock you realized what he intended. 

"My lord, I...I don't think we should...the rumors--" 

"The rumors can go to hell as far as I'm concerned," he said under his breath, "You need not worry about them." 

There was a voice in your head warning you that this was a bad idea. Someone could walk in, and then what would happen? 

A second was saying that there was no harm in a fling. Likely as not, that was all he wanted. 

"As...as long as no one finds out," You said, your voice shaking. 

"Then you will have to be quiet," he smirked against your neck, and suddenly his grip on you shifted to a near-painful clutch. He kissed you once more, drawing you a few steps forward. 

"Lovely," he muttered a minute or two later, "And full of passion and joy for what you do." 

You found that he was quickly pulling up your dress, and stiffened a bit. 

"And your eyes, (y/n)." 

"W-what about them?" you asked, freezing when he shifted, turning your back in the direction his had but a moment before been facing. 

"They burn at my soul. I still remember looking at you that first night. You do not know, you cannot know, how your very gaze set me aflame." 

"My lord, I had no idea." 

"You are alluring, but you are innocent. You are enticing, but not on purpose. Do you know how very tempting that is?" 

"No, I, I don't." You were shaking now. He seemed to notice, and held you closely, his tail intertwining with yours. 

"Then let me show you." 

You were persuaded to take a few more steps back and you realized that the back of your knees had hit the side of your vanity. Startled, you fell back onto it, mentally cursing that its surface was so low--a few bottles and lipstick tubes were knocked onto the floor, the former shattering. 

Cooler looked down at you, and pushed your dress up, tugging at and then tearing away your underwear when he realized it was made with your tail in mind. 

"You still don't know," he said, leaning down over you, "...I want you, (y/n)." 

Before you could answer, he moved fully into you, seeming to revel in the slight cry of pain you gave. 

"You were unclaimed, weren't you?" he asked in a low tone, smirking when you nodded. "Good." 

The heat was blazing, and each thrust he gave lessened the pain and heightened the pleasure. You moaned only briefly before he decided to silence you with a kiss, and soon after wrapped your arms around him, clinging tightly to him as the tense feeling started its climb. 

_This is wrong_ , you found yourself thinking, _I'd be ruined...he can't just...we really shouldn't have..._

_But you are_ , the response came. 

Cooler continued, pushing deeper and deeper, eliciting a quick cry of pleasure from you when he parted briefly for air. 

"What did I tell you about being quiet?" he whispered in an amused tone, placing a hand over your mouth as he continued. 

You were virtually clawing at his back now, and weren't even really concerned about leaving marks people would ask about. He was just toying with you now, he was just...just... 

You tried to speak, but his hand remained firmly in place. 

The heat was building, and you clamped your eyes shut, trying not to lose yourself to the pleasure of it all. A vanity table. This was happening on _a vanity table_. What the hell kind of a story would that be later, that you lost your virginity in a dressing room to a prince you'd only known for a short period? It was like a bad porno. Or a good court novel. 

"Are you enjoying yourself?" He thrusted quickly, before you could reply, and you looked up, eyes glazing over with the pleasure he knew damn well he was giving you. "Good." 

How teasing he was. How...how... 

As the tense feeling continued to build you found that each stroke, each push, was maddening. Your muffled moans were getting higher and higher in pitch, and you could see from the set expression on his face that he was feeling much the same as you. 

In the end, he finished first, and the blazing hot feeling coursed up through your core and set your own end off. You practically screamed through his hand, and dug your nails as deep as you could get them, awash in the throes of that sudden intensity. 

Then you relaxed, and his hand moved away, stroking your cheek. 

* * *

*COOLER'S POV* 

I should have known better. 

I should have stayed away from her, like I was first inclined to. 

But I can't do that now. 

Having her once wasn't enough. It will never be enough. 

She must be mine.


	4. Mine Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something's telling you that this isn't a good idea, that he's moving way too fast. But to say no would mean more than just your own ruin.

### Mine Alone

You disposed of your underwear the second your legs felt steady again after Cooler left, and you used your ki to burn them to ashes. 

As you flushed those ashes, you tried not to panic. 

It had been wonderful...exciting... 

But his words were likely meaningless. Why would a prince be so interested in you to begin with? True, your family was rising in influence and importance, but you weren't exactly court people. 

Then again, you thought, this was just a fling. A bit of fun. People did this all the time. A bit of fun never hurt anyone, right? 

* * *

Three weeks had passed. 

You'd had four performances in the last two days and to be honest, all the practicing and whatnot had left you rather tired. You came home from that night's show and tried to head straight to your room...or at least, you _would_ have gone there if it hadn't been for the giggling you heard from the kitchen. 

You walked over to see what was going on. 

"(Y/n!)" Hiemal said, "We're glad you showed. We've got something very, very important to tell you." 

"I can't believe it!" your sister appeared from behind him, still giggling, "(Y/n), you've done so well." 

"I thought you were the one who went on about wanting love? And what do you mean? What's all this about?" 

"I do, it's just...you must be in love if you've already--" 

"(Sister's name)!" Hiemal said, "Calm down. Now, (y/n), we just wish you'd told us what you were doing. We'd have helped you." 

"Well," you said, looking away and trying to feign knowing what the hell they were talking about, "I...I wasn't sure how you'd take it." 

"Wasn't sure how we'd take our little girl becoming engaged to the prince? Wasn't sure if we'd give our consent?" 

You stopped cold. "W-what?" 

Engaged? He'd said _NOTHING_ to you about it. He hadn't even given you the slightest hint. Not the first idea of your tryst having meant anything more to him than it had to you. How could he have just...why would he have...? It almost enraged you, that he would do this without so much as asking you what you thought of it. 

What the hell was he doing?! You barely knew him! He hadn't said a damn word to you, hadn't even taken you out on a second date...and he was jumping straight to marriage! Was he that desperate for company? Were you the first tolerable woman he'd come across? 

"Because we most heartily did!" Gelid grinned widely, and gave you a huge hug. "Ah, my little girl! I can barely believe it, _my_ little girl a princess!" 

You hugged him back, still a bit stunned. Engaged. He'd set this up already. Asked your fathers' consent. 

"It was a bit shaky there for a while, (y/n), you know. But you came through for us. And this'll throw your sister in the way of other highborn changelings...ah, the good you'll be doing for this family!" 

You bit your lip. Some part of you was screaming that no, this was a horrible idea, that this couldn't possibly be as good as they were saying, that it wouldn't quite be the paradise that they thought it would be. But... 

...it wasn't like you'd get any other offers now, right? And how could you say no? Despite your contempt for your fathers' social climbing, you were aware of how badly their, and your, life could get if you were to outright refuse Cooler's...offer. The King often regaled your father with what he'd managed to do to some business associate's entire life when the man had double-crossed him. 

One man's wealth had been slowly siphoned away. His family were, in some form or fashion, ruined in the eyes of their peers. Their reputations were shot--so badly that they had trouble finding even the most entry-level kind of work, let alone living with the luxury that they had been accustomed to. 

You shuddered to think of what might happen to your family in such a case. 

"Now we're only waiting on the King's consent, but I have no doubt that he'll do so. He's likely just glad that his son actually took enough interest in anyone to actually get to this point with her." 

* * *

Needless to say, King Cold's consent was eagerly given. 

Cooler came to visit a few days afterward to give you the traditional Arcosian sign of engagement--a silver bracelet with two gemstones--one red, and one blue, obviously modeled after your respective biogems. 

"You...you could have told me first," You murmured, as he fastened it around your wrist. 

"What fun would that have been?" he asked, smiling a little as he looked back up at you. 

"I just...thought...you were supposed to ask me first." 

"Then I suppose I should ask, so we can get this..." He reached up and placed a hand on your cheek, "...show on the road, as it were." 

You started shaking. You weren't sure why...but...but there was something about the look in his eyes that was unsettling. 

"Will you marry me?" 

Your heart skipped a beat. 

Every fiber of your being was yelling at you to say no. You cringed slightly as Cooler's hand clenched (albeit gently) at your face. 

"Y-yes. I will." 

"Then you are mine," he said, and kissed you. 

_Mine, and no one else's._


	5. Midnight Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've visited the palace several times, but this time run into someone Cooler is more than a little worried about.

### Midnight Sea

The anxiety only increased as the weeks began to pass. 

The wedding was not to take place for three months, but it just didn't feel like enough time. Sure, you put on a happy face for your family, but inside you were panicking more and more. Dress fittings were happening. Food selections were being run by you now and then. And then there were your little "supervised" visits to the palace. 

Supervised, as in, there were servants sent to fetch you to the palace, where one of them would then lead you to wherever it was Cooler had wanted you summoned. And then there would be servants there, too, or guards, or whatever the hell they were. It felt strange considering what had happened not so long ago, but you supposed he wanted to do this properly to avoid any kind of ruined reputation for you. 

Today was no different. The servants had been sent and you were walking down a palace corridor when they, walking ahead of you, suddenly stopped. 

You started to move with them when they moved aside to let whoever it was pass by, but were stopped when they addressed you. 

"So you're the...lucky girl." 

You looked up and saw-- 

"Lord Frieza." You curtseyed. "A pleasure to meet you." 

"Likewise," he said, giving his own little polite bow, and before you could even rise properly he took your hand...and kissed it. 

All you could think was, Cooler would never let you hear the end of it... 

You both rose, and he let your hand go. 

"A very quick wedding is underway, I've heard," he said, giving you what you could swear was a slight grin, "I'm sure there was no impropriety that would prompt such a thing, though." 

"Of course not." He couldn't possibly know. Cooler was...too guarded, or at least, you guessed he was, to share something like what had happened with his brother. Their rivalry was the stuff of legends; they wouldn't be close enough to talk about basic things, let along something intimate like that. 

"Of course not," Frieza repeated. "He barely has the time of day for anyone that doesn't work for him, barely knows how to express himself...I suppose it was foolish of me to assume that he would have enough feeling to know the finer points of biology." 

Okay, now the conversation was getting...well, more than a little unsettling. You'd heard Frieza was a little more social than his brother, but you hadn't expected...crude humor. 

"Well. It was certainly lovely meeting you. I imagine I'll be seeing you more often after the wedding, if my brother doesn't lock you in a cage first..." He chuckled at that and then walked on past. 

When he was around the corner, you breathed a sigh of relief, as did the servants. 

"We're terribly sorry," the first one said, "We were told that he was not here. Lord Cooler's not going to be happy about this..." 

"Why?" you asked. As if you didn't already know... 

"If there's one thing he hates, it's when his brother notices that he has something that he actually wants for a change." 

"What, is he afraid of Lord Frieza?" 

"In some respects," the second said, as you turned down the next hallway. 

They would say no more after that, and you were not at all eager to ask more. They lead you through this hall and into a courtyard's garden. Cooler was sitting on a bench near a few rosebushes, and appeared to be fiddling with one. 

You took a deep breath and stepped forward. 

"Ah, (y/n)," he said, smiling and looking up, "You are late." 

"Our apologies, my Lord," said the first servant, "We...ran into your brother in the halls." As hesitant as he had sounded, you were at first surprised that he'd bring it up so quickly. But then you thought that perhaps he was just trying to get the no doubt unpleasant reaction out of the way. 

"Oh?" he asked sharply. "I hope he was not rude...he can barely find the manners to deal with his own soldiers, let alone a proper lady." 

"No," you replied, "He was actually fairly polite...to me, anyway. He seemed to have nothing positive to say about you." 

Some of the rose's thorns near his fingers fizzled and burned. "Is that so...and what did he have to say about me?" 

"That you were unfeeling." 

"He is certainly one to talk about feeling..." Cooler shook his head briefly, "The only insult strong enough is to say that with regards to women, he is our father's son. And they're usually rarities. A woman of a race where females are not often born, a woman of even a percentage of his strength. Then there's the ones that make no sense at all." he sniffed contemptuously, "Leggy brunettes, for example." 

"He must care a great deal about looks," you said, taking the seat beside him when he motioned to you. 

"Of course he does. Why would the--" and here his voice shifted to an almost angry one, "--mighty Lord Frieza want anything less? Any woman on his arm must be not only strong and graceful, but beautiful beyond reason as well. You should have seen the makeup bills of his last toy before she died." 

"Perhaps we should change the subject," you said suddenly. This topic wasn't getting anyone anywhere, and the way he went on about his brother like this unsettled you. 

"A wonderful idea," he replied, handing you the rose, which was now free of thorns. "For you. I wouldn't want my perfect little (y/n)'s skin to be cut by anything so petty as a thorn." 

"Thank you," you replied, blushing slightly. He could be so poetic sometimes. But that didn't change very much...you were still trapped in this arrangement. Who knew what might happen between now and the day of the wedding? What if he did do something like what he'd done in your dressing room before, and you were caught together? As unfeeling as Frieza seemed to think that his brother was... 

You were very much aware that Cooler was making a rapid shift.


End file.
